…it’s a good way to go
I took this solitary beach trip to Goa a few years ago, and it was so quiet and empty and all you heard was the waves because the tourists hadn’t come in yet. I just needed the stretch, and it helped to go be a beach bum no matter how shady travel is when alone and female in the motherland.
I never swam the whole trip, but I thought about it
the day wasn’t orange- rather blue, in fact
but its memory still is
“swimming to the sun…” a friend once penned off, referring to Corbusier’s death and summing up my dreaming
and I, unaware of that story was so mesmerized by the sensuous image this little phrase conjured up in my head that even now when I know what he really meant, (and that knowledge changes everything), the visuals remain untarnished and refuse to stop flowing
If you know what I mean
as for this picture, I always thought that was two friends growing old together on the shore. Don’t care if it wasn’t.